The Hunger Tournament
by rachelkardash
Summary: Harry Potter characters compete in the 74th Annual Hunger Games, now known as The Hunger Tournament (Hunger Games / Triwizard Tournament). Rated T for violence.


**The Hunger Tournament**

**Author's Note: This is a Hunger Games / Harry Potter fanfic. The original adult characters from The Hunger Games are still present but all of the Tributes are young Harry Potter characters. In this fic Harry lives in District 12 along with his godfather Sirius, Sirius' husband Remus and Remus' son Teddy. I don't know exactly how they're all related to each other, because that's a complicated mix, but they're all family :) James and Lily died when Harry was a baby but they weren't murdered by Voldemort because he doesn't exist in this fic. I realise that there are some issues with ages, for example, by now Oliver Wood would be too old to compete in the Games, however, I would appreciate it if these issues could be kindly pushed aside to allow enjoyment of the story. Reviews are very welcome and will all be replied to individually. If I get a positive response from this first chapter, I'll update the fic really soon. Thank you x**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or Harry Potter. All credit goes to Suzanne Collins and J.K Rowling.**

CHAPTER ONE – THE REAPING

I take a deep breath as my godfather Sirius straightens my tie and adjusts my collar. When he's done, he places his hands on my upper arms and looks directly into my eyes.

"You ready?" he asks with a nod.

"As I'll ever be." I say.

My mouth is dry and my legs feel weak, but now is not the time to show weakness. I've got Teddy to think about.

He stands silently, not making a sound as his father Remus combs his soft brown hair into place. Teddy turned twelve a few months ago, making it eligible for his name to be entered into the Reaping bowl. I recall the morning of my first Reaping Day, how I stayed hidden, curled up under my bedsheets for hours, until Sirius finally managed to prise me out and guide me downstairs where his husband Remus and stepson Teddy were waiting at the kitchen table with what must have been the most glorious breakfast I've ever seen laid out – tea, toast, sausages, eggs, bacon, crumpets and jam. They greeted me with warm smiles, even though Teddy was only eight and didn't quite understand to the full extent what the day meant or what The Hunger Tournament even was.

He understands now though. Four years on, here he is, experiencing that dreadful nausea that captivates your stomach and the prickling sensation of salty tears threatening to spill out of your eyes that washes over me every twelve months, on this very day. Because it is on this day in front of the entire district that the participants – known as Tributes – in this year's Hunger Tournament are announced.

The Hunger Tournament is a cruel and sadistic tradition invented by the Capitol of Panem. I don't know much about the Capitol, only that its inhabitants are flamboyant, very fond of their material possessions, and enjoy watching the 12 outlying districts that surround it suffer. There used to be 13 districts. But many years ago, in a period known as the Dark Days, the people of District 13 had decided that they'd had enough of the Capitol's dictatorship, and formed an uprising, in an attempt to abolish the Capitol and introduce liberty to all inhabitants of Panem. The other districts were thrilled at the prospect of finally being granted some freedom. That is, until, the Capitol started dropping bombs over 13, killing its entire population and destroying its land. The districts' only ray of hope and been obliterated completely.

That's when The Hunger Tournament was created. Every year, each district is forced to give up one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen, to compete in a petrifying fight to the death, in which only one survives. If this weren't bad enough, the event is televised, and viewing is mandatory for everyone in the districts. It's a reminder to them that the Capitol is in control, and if you try to bring them down, they have the authority to kill your children.

The 24 Tributes are selected by a public "Reaping". Everyone gathers in their district's town square, outside of their district's Justice Building, where a massive stage, flashy cameras and bright lights have already been set up by the Capitol. Someone from the Capitol, known as an escort, who is always dressed in some ridiculous Capitol fashion craze and looks like something from a circus freak show, arrives to perform the Reaping. The escort for District 12 – the district my family and I are from – is Effie Trinket. There are two large glass bowls, known as Reaping bowls, one for boys and one for girls, full of small folded and sealed slips of paper that are placed on the stage. Printed on the inside of every single one of these slips, is the name of a child between the ages of twelve and eighteen who lives in the district. The escort selects one slip from the girls' bowl and one slip from the boys' bowl. The names printed on these two slips of paper are the names of the Tributes who will represent their district in this year's Hunger Tournament. That's it. There's no negotiating, no getting out of it – unless someone of the same gender volunteers to take your place. Volunteering is quite common in the wealthier districts, like 1 and 2, but very rare in the poorer ones. In fact, there has never been a volunteer Tribute from District 12.

The number of times your name is entered into the Reaping bowl can vary. It's a complicated system. If you are twelve years old, and this is your first Reaping, your name is entered once. If you are thirteen years old, and this is your second Reaping, your name is entered twice. This pattern continues until you are eighteen years old and your name is entered seven times. Therefore, the odds of you being chosen to compete in the Tournament increase as you get older. However, you can accept extra parcels of grain and oil from the Capitol in addition to your family's allotted rations in exchange for having your name entered more times into the Reaping bowl. It's a very unfair swap, and all too common in the poorer districts like 12. Luckily, Remus has a stable job teaching at mine and Teddy's school, which brings in a fair amount of income. Sirius isn't quite so lucky, and spends six days a week working underground mining coal, which is the main export of District 12. We can't afford the luxuries that some families can, and although many of mine and Teddy's clothes are second hand, we have a roof over our heads and eat three meals a day. I tried to accept some medicine from the Capitol when Sirius became very ill and couldn't work for a while a few years ago, but as soon as he found out what I was planning to do he put a stop to it straight away. He said he'd rather die than increase the odds of me being Reaped.

I am confident that Teddy will not be chosen to compete in the Tournament. After all, it's his first year, and he hasn't accepted any extra goods, meaning his name has only been entered into the bowl once. However, I am sixteen, meaning my name has been entered five times. Still, I think to myself. That's only six slips of paper between the two of us, and when you compare that to the amount of males that are of Reaping age who live in District 12, the odds are in our favour. That's the Capitol's slogan to go along with The Hunger Tournament – _may the odds be ever in your favour_. They're so corrupt that they can't even bring themselves to wish us good luck. "May the odds be ever in your favour" is the best they can manage.

I put my arm around Teddy, who is now trembling slightly. My touch seems to calm him down, and he looks up at me with the shimmering blue eyes he inherited from his father. I muster all my courage and give him a brave smile, which he weakly returns.

Sirius and Remus stand in front of us.

"We want both of you to know that Sirius and I are extremely proud of you," says Remus calmly.

"We love you both very much," Sirius begins quietly. "And..."

A lump in my throat emerges as Sirius turns around to face the window and sighs. I know he's fighting the urge to cry. Remus quickly picks up where Sirius left off.

"And whatever happens today, we must remember to stay strong. If the worst does happen, which I'm sure it won't, then I want you to remember that..."

Like Sirius, he trails off and lets out a sigh as his eyes close. I can tell that this is difficult for them.

"We know," I nod my head. They don't need to say anything. Teddy and I know that they love us. And Sirius and Remus know that we love them.

Suddenly, a haunting drone fills the air outside. The horn. A threatening signal to everyone who is not yet in the square to hurry. Anyone who does not turn up will be imprisoned.

After a few silent hugs, the four of us make our way out to District 12's town square. It's strange seeing the market so empty – trading stops early on Reaping Day as a sign of respect. The streets are littered with an abnormal amount of Peacekeepers, big, burly guards sent from the Capitol dressed in white robes and helmets and carrying loaded guns to make sure that the people in the districts behave themselves.

The square is already packed with children. Parents, relatives and friends are squeezed together like battery hens behind long lines of elegant red rope, separating them from the Reaping. Not far away, five Peacekeepers who are robed but not wearing helmets sit at a trestle table covered in majestic purple cloth, signing children in by pricking their finger with a needle and pressing the wounded skin onto a chart of paper beside their name. I can hear Teddy's breathing getting faster. He's always had an irrational fear of needles. I pat his back affectionately.

"Time to go?" I ask rather than state.

He gulps and nods, his eyes sparkling with tears. I have to admire him. He's trying so hard not to look scared.

"Don't worry," I smile. "We're both going to be just fine."

We say our final goodbyes to Sirius and Remus before they are shepherded to the other side of the rope by a particularly intimidating Peacekeeper. Teddy and I hold hands as we walk slowly over to the signing in table and join the queue of waiting children. I look around. All of the boys are wearing ironed trousers, a shirt and a tie. All of the girls are wearing dresses of appropriate length and you can tell they've made an effort to style their hair. It's important to look smart on Reaping Day, what with the cameras being here and all. Not to mention that if you are one of the unlucky two to be chosen, your face will be shown to the entire nation during the replays of the Reaping. First impressions count – no one wants to sponsor a street urchin who looks as though they haven't washed in days.

Teddy and I are signed in and suck the blood off of our pricked fingers as we make our way over to the boy's half of the square. The boys stand on one side, and the girls, the other, leaving an aisle in between.

I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach because this is where I have to leave Teddy. The youngest children stand at the front, nearer the Justice Building, and the older kids stand at the back, meaning we must stand separately. Teddy knows this and looks at me fearfully. Silent tears have started falling down his cheeks.

"I want to stay with you!" he exclaims.

"I know," I say, smoothing down his hair. "But it's only for a little while. Then we can go home with Dad and Sirius, can't we? And everything will be back to normal again."

Teddy nods and I usher him over to the front of the large pack of boys. He stands in line and I give him a quick kiss on the head before returning to the middle of the pack where the sixteen year olds stand.

There are a few minutes of quite mumbling before Effie Trinket, District 12's escort from the Capitol, opens the front doors of the Justice Building and steps out onto the stage.

"Welcome, welcome!" she cries in her silly Capitol accent into a silver microphone. Her voice rings out all across the square.

She's wearing a puffy fuchsia dress that has the largest shoulder pads I've ever seen. She wobbles around in her six inch purple heels. Her face is powdery white but her lips are a deep pink, and so is the make-up around her eyes. Her tightly curled hair is the colour of popcorn, and sticks out drastically. On top of her head she wears a large, purple rose, which is almost the same size as her head itself. The lack of applause does not faze her at all.

"The time has come to select one courageous young man and woman for the _honour _of representing District 12 in the 74th annual Hunger Tournament!"

'The honour'. What a joke. It's disgusting how the Capitol treats the Tributes like royalty but then bet on who they think will win, sponsor their favourites and applaud the bloody, gory deaths in the arena – the man-made environment disguised to look like outside landscape where the Tournament takes place.

"Now," Effie continues. "Before we begin, we have got a very special film, brought to you all the way from the Capitol!"

A projection starts playing on a wide screen that has been raised high above the Justice Building. I don't bother watching. It's the same film they show before the Reaping every year. Footage of what District 13 looked like after the Capitol had destroyed it, with the Panem anthem playing in the background and President Snow's voice explaining why The Hunger Tournament is necessary. I almost snort in disbelief as he finishes with, _"This is how we remember our past. This is how we safeguard our future."_

Effie squeals like an excited infant.

"I just love that!" she takes a breath and regains composure. "Now. To business. As always, ladies first."

She makes her way over to the right side of the stage, where a large Reaping bowl full of girls' names is propped up. Her hand hovers over the top of the glass for a moment, her wrist rotating, her fingers swirling, looking very odd with her fake glittery talons. Then she dips her hand into the bowl and pulls out a single slip of folded and sealed paper.

She smiles and walks back over to the centre of the stage where her microphone is set up. She looks gleefully happy as she breaks the seal and unfolds the slip of paper.

The square is silent. Everyone's heart has stopped.

"Hermione Granger," says Effie clearly.

There are a few gasps. Then the whispering starts. Hermione Granger? I don't know her.

"Where are you, Hermione, dear?" Effie asks, scanning the crowd for any sign of movement.

It is several seconds before Hermione starts separating herself from the rest of the girls, every eye in the square looking at her. She's probably in shock, or else paralysed with fear.

She has long, bushy brown hair that she has made an effort to tame into waves. Her skin is pale, and she's wearing a knee length blue dress under a small, baby pink cardigan.

No, wait – yes, I do know her. Hermione Granger, the dentists' daughter. I've never spoken to her because she's from a different, better off area of District 12, so we don't go to the same school. But her parents are dentists and own a dental practice in the town. Dr Granger, my family's dentist, is her father, and he has photos of her in his surgery. I think she's around the same age as me. I've seen her walking around the market a couple of times with her friends. We've smiled at each other when we accidentally caught eye contact but we've never exchanged words.

"Come on up!" Effie calls, beckoning Hermione up onto the stage.

Hermione's steps are slow. I can't blame her. There is still an undertone of chatter amongst the crowd. I look across the square and see a crying woman who must be Hermione's mother being comforted by my dentist, Hermione's father. I immediately feel for them. Hermione is their only child, and to lose her in this way would be nothing short of horrific.

When Hermione is finally up on the stage, her eyes glistening with tears and her mouth hanging open, Effie continues.

"And now for the boys!"

I close my eyes and hear Effie selecting a slip of paper from the boys' reaping bowl. Her heels tap against the hard stage as she makes her way back into the centre. I hear the seal of the piece of paper being broken.

_Not me, not me, not me,_ I hope desperately, squeezing my eyes shut tighter as though this will somehow help.

Effie reads out the name on the paper. It's not my name.

It's Teddy Lupin.


End file.
